Another Day Without You
by IrishPrincess
Summary: When Faith Meredith returns from London in September of 1919, she and Jem make the reluctant decision to keep a secret from their families. Revised chapter 13 now posted.
1. Homecoming

**September, 1919 **

"How wonderful it is to finally be home!" thought Faith Meredith as she got off the train at the Glen St. Mary station. "I can't wait to get to the manse. Everyone is going to be surprised to see me."

Faith made arrangements with the new stationmaster, Mr. Clarke, to pick up her trunk later. Mr. Clarke, who had been in Glen for only a month, didn't know who the striking young woman in the blue dress was, but he thought her quite beautiful. Like many travelers, she looked a little tired, but her brown eyes seemed to sparkle with delight, her fair skin was flawless, and her golden brown hair had the luster of a full moon on a clear night. This captivating young woman seemed to be in a hurry. She didn't even tell him her name when she said someone would be by for her trunk later.

Because she didn't want anyone to see her before her family did, Faith decided to walk home through the woods rather than through town. She'd almost forgotten what an enchanted place Glen could be at twilight, with the regal purple haze of the sunset hanging over the horizon and the luxuriant greenery of the grass and trees juxtaposed against the deep red soil of the roads. Nothing in London could compare with the splendor of Prince Edward Island's natural beauty.

As Faith savored her walk home by way of her old childhood haunts, Jem Blythe arrived at the train station and asked Mr. Clarke if the medical supplies Dr. Blythe was expecting had arrived on the late afternoon train. While he waited for the stationmaster to check, he noticed a familiar-looking trunk on the platform. Walking over to inspect it more closely, he saw that Faith Meredith's initials were engraved on it. His heart joyfully leapt into his throat as he wondered if she could possibly be home.

"Mr. Clarke, is this Faith Meredith's trunk?" Jem asked when the stationmaster returned with the medical supplies.

"I don't know," he replied. "The young lady was in such a hurry to get to wherever she was going that she didn't tell me her name. Just said someone would be by for the trunk later this evening."

"Thank you," Jem said, as he rushed off towards the manse.

Mr. Clarke, who was still holding the two small boxes Jem had come for, called out after him, "Mr. Blythe, what about these medical supplies?"

Not only did Jem not hear the question, he had completely forgotten about the errand that had brought him to the train station in the first place. All he could think about was seeing Faith.

When Faith reached the manse, she was pleased with herself, knowing that she had succeeded in surprising her family with her earlier-than-expected return. However, the surprise was on her. The door was locked, an uncommon occurrence at the manse. Faith knocked, but there was no answer.

Faith laughed at her predicament and said to herself, "Well, that's what I get for not telling anyone of my plans – no one to greet me."

Faith remembered that when she had left Glen, the lock on her bedroom window was broken. Walking around to the side of the house near her bedroom, she hoped nobody had fixed the lock in her absence. She looked up at the second-story window and decided that she would climb up the trellis that ran along side the window and try to get in the house that way. She had just put her foot on the second rung when she heard a voice behind her.

"Faith, what are you doing? That's dangerous!" 

"Jem," she exclaimed when she turned around and saw him. She quickly jumped down from the trellis. "What are you doing here? I thought you left for Kingsport last week."

Although Jem was eager to find out why Faith had been climbing up the trellis, and Faith was just as eager to learn why Jem was still in Glen, each of them was more interested in being in the other's arms. After the type of passionate greeting one would expect from young lovers who had been separated for five months, they began their explanations.

"We didn't think you'd be home for at least another fortnight," Jem said.

"I finished my work a little sooner than I anticipated. My supervisor offered the opportunity to come home early, so naturally I took it."

"Why didn't you tell us?" he asked as he gazed into her shining brown eyes, which at this moment radiated joy.

"I wanted to surprise everyone by unexpectedly walking through the door two weeks early. But unfortunately the door is locked, and it appears no one is home."

"So you were going to break into the minister's house like a common thief?" Jem asked teasingly.

Faith pretended to be hurt by his description. "You once told me there was nothing common about me?"

"True," he said, smiling. "So you were going to break into the minister's house like an uncommon thief?"

"My bedroom window doesn't lock. Or at least it didn't when I left, so I thought I'd just climb up the trellis and enter my room through the window."

"Did it occur to you that you could fall and break your neck?" he asked in a tone of mock severity.

"I never thought of that," she confessed.

"My beautiful, impulsive wife," he said, as he pulled her close and kissed her again. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I like what you're doing now," she said playfully. He needed no more encouragement to kiss her a third time.

"Tell me what you're doing here," she said. "How did you know where to find me?"

"The medical wing at Redmond was damaged by a fire two weeks ago, and the start of classes had to be delayed so repairs could be made. I'm leaving the day after tomorrow, which will give us all of tomorrow to spend together. As for knowing where to find you, I saw your trunk at the station. I'm only sorry that you weren't still there with it. I could have saved you your trip here," he said, looking at the manse.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean that not only is no one home now, no one will be home until tomorrow. Your parents took Bruce with them to Summerside on church business, and Jerry is in Charlottetown with his business partner, Mr. Logan. And of course Una and Carl left for Redmond early last week."

"Having you here more than makes up for their temporary absences," she told him gleefully.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said, smiling. "Of course, I can't let you stay here alone tonight."

Faith smiled impishly. "That's a scandalous suggestion, my dear husband. After all, no one knows we're married."

Jem laughed and said, "I love the idea of staying here with you tonight, Mrs. Blythe, but that's not what I meant. You'll stay at Ingleside. And unless I can convince you that we should tell my family about our marriage tonight, I imagine you'll sleep in Nan and Di's room while I sleep in my room."

"If Dad and Rosemary were here, I'd say let's tell everyone tonight. But since they aren't, I'm afraid they'd be hurt if we made our big announcement to your family tonight," she said, hoping he wouldn't argue. Though she was usually very stubborn, Faith feared she might acquiesce if he made much of an effort to sway her.

"I guess since we've waited more than a year and a half, one more night won't make any difference," her told her.

"Thank you for understanding," she said.

"My family is going to be thrilled to see you. I'll take you to Ingleside and then I'll borrow Dad's car so I can go pick up your trunk at the station," he said.

"I don't want to impose on your family," protested Faith.

"You could never impose. They consider you family, Faith. Besides, the house seems empty with Nan and Di away teaching, Shirley at Redmond, and …" His voice trailed off, and Faith could tell by the pained look in his eyes that he was thinking of Walter.

"I'm sorry, Jem," she said gently.

"It's hard to get used to the idea he's never coming back," Jem said hoarsely as Faith put her arms around him in a comforting embrace.


	2. The House on the Hill

When Faith awoke the following morning, she felt rested and serene. Although she hadn't yet been home for twenty-four hours, the tranquility and security of Glen seemed to have engulfed her already. As Jem had predicted, the Blythe clan had been overjoyed to see her, and the love they obviously felt for her took away much of the disappointment she felt at not being greeted by her own family as well. Susan had dutifully and happily informed Faith of the latest Glen gossip, Rilla had spoken excitedly of planning her upcoming December wedding, and Dr. and Mrs. Blythe had told her lovingly how pleased they were to have their fourth daughter at home. This particular comment had caused Jem and Faith to exchange amused glances, for the Blythes were not aware of the truth of their comment.

While the Glen was indeed welcoming and peaceful, it was not as it had been before the war. Well, perhaps the town itself was, but her residents were not. Even the joyous occasion of Faith's homecoming, with its cheerful conversation and warm hugs, could not mask the underlying melancholy that had been present at Ingleside since Walter's death. Although his name was not mentioned, he was in everyone's thoughts as they spoke excitedly and hopefully of the future, a future that would not include Walter Blythe. Dr. and Mrs. Blythe had certainly been changed by their son's death. Dr. Blythe's face, while still distinguished and handsome, seemed older, grayer, and more tired than Faith remembered, while Mrs. Blythe's merry gray-green eyes held an unmistakable hint of anguish, even when she laughed. The changes in these two grief-stricken people made her realize how much the Blythes needed to have Jem near, making Faith especially glad that she and Jem had decided to return to the Glen once he completed his medical studies.

After breakfast, Jem suggested he and Faith go for a walk as there was something he wanted to show her. Judging by the smile on everyone else's face when Jem made his suggestion, Faith surmised that whatever Jem wanted to show her was something she would like, so she didn't mention the overcast sky and the obvious threat of rain.

"Where are we going?" Faith asked curiously, as they left Ingleside.

"You'll see," Jem told her.

"No hints?" she asked.

"No, it's a surprise," he said before changing the subject. "Did you sleep well?" 

"Wonderfully," she said. "How about you?

"Not that well," he admitted. "It's pure agony to sleep with you in the next room, knowing I can't hold you in my arms all night even though you're so close."

"Jem!" exclaimed Faith as color rose to her cheeks. "You shouldn't say such things!"

"It's true," he told her. "But things should change after tonight. My mother told me before you came downstairs that she is going to invite your family over for supper this evening. She knows you'll want to spend the evening with them and with me."

"You're mother is very thoughtful," Faith said appreciatively. "And without knowing it, she's giving us the perfect opportunity to make our announcement. I only wish all our siblings could be here."

"So do I, but that would be a long wait. Until Christmas," Jem reminded her.

"I know," Faith said regretfully.

"I can't wait to see the look on Rilla's face when we tell everyone," Jem said, smiling.

"Why?" Faith asked.

"Because she thinks that she, the youngest of the Blythe children, is going to be the first to be married, and she is very proud of it. She thinks it is a great accomplishment."

Faith said nothing. The previous evening, she had been impressed with how much Rilla had matured since their last meeting. Jem's comment indicated that perhaps the more childish Rilla, whom Faith remembered, still existed.

"Well, here we are," said Jem, stopping in front of a big, gray house.

"It's High Hill," Faith said blankly.

"Yes," Jem said. "It's also going to be our home when I graduate from medical school. Rosemary and Ellen have agreed to sell it to us."

"Oh Jem!" she exclaimed, clearly delighted by the news. "That's wonderful. I've always loved this house. How did you ever convince them to sell?"

"I made an offer," Jem said simply.

"But Rosemary always said she and Ellen could never bear to think of anyone else living here."

"They couldn't bear to think of anyone _but _family living here. At least that's what they told me. They were thrilled at the idea of Rosemary's daughter living here."

Faith smiled and thought how fortunate she was to have a stepmother who considered her flesh-and-blood.

"I never thought we'd be able to buy a house so soon," Faith said.

"I know. Victoria was very kind to leave us such a generous sum of money in her will," Jem said, referring to Faith's landlady in London. "Enough to live on while I finish medical school and to make a sizable down payment on High Hill. I think she would approve of us buying this house, don't you?"

"Yes, she would," Faith said softly, thinking of the elderly lady who had been like a grandmother to her.

"Shall we go in?" Jem asked as he reached into his pocket.

"They've already given you a key?" Faith said, surprised. Jem wouldn't graduate from medical school for another year.

"I went to see Ellen Douglass and got the key before you got up this morning," he told her. "She said it was perfectly fine for us to look around and start making plans."

And make plans they did. For the next half hour, the young couple looked over every room in the house as they discussed their future. Faith would spend two or three weeks in Glen, visiting her family before moving to Kingsport to be with Jem while he finished his course in medicine. Then, they would return to Glen and their new home, High Hill.

The young couple was so busy talking about all they had to look forward to that they were completely surprised to hear a great roar of thunder overhead.

"That moved in quickly," Jem observed as they looked out the front window.

"Not really," said Faith, laughing. "It was pretty cloudy when we left Ingleside. But I didn't notice until now how dark it had gotten."

"Look at those black clouds to the west," Jem said, pointing out the window as the rain began to pour down, making a tremendous racket as it hit the roof above them. 

"It looks as though this storm is going to last a while," Faith said.

Jem turned and put his arms around her. "You know what this means, don't you? We're going to have to wait out the storm here – alone."

"I can't think of anyone I'd rather be alone with," Faith whispered breathlessly before her husband kissed her.


	3. A Change of Plans

After the storm ended more than two hours later, Jem returned to Ingleside while Faith went to the manse. When the Merediths saw Faith, she was assaulted by shrieks of delight and quickly found herself nestled in the eager arms of her family, everyone vying to give her the first hug at the same time.

"Faith Meredith, why on earth didn't you tell us you'd be home today?" exclaimed her astonished father, who had practically leaped out of his chair to greet her with a big hug.

"I wanted to surprise everyone by coming home a fortnight early, but you surprised me by not being home," Faith said, laughing good-naturedly as she looked around at the happily startled faces in front of her. The Merediths couldn't have been more delighted if Santa Claus himself had walked through the front door bearing gifts three months earlier than expected.

"At last all of our children are where they belong," said Rosemary thankfully.

"This is a wonderful surprise!" Jerry said as he kissed his sister on the cheek.

"Welcome home, Faith," said Bruce as he threw his arms around her.

"Oh, my goodness, Bruce! I think you've grown two feet since the last time I saw you! When I left you were just a boy, and now you're practically a man!" Faith exclaimed, resulting in a proud smile appearing on her little brother's face.

The rest of the afternoon was spent excitedly exchanging news and stories and simply enjoying the company of family. In the middle of the joyous reunion, Anne Blythe called and extended the invitation to supper, which the Merediths happily accepted.

When the Merediths arrived at Ingleside, Faith and Jem were filled with the nervous giddiness of two young people about to attend their first grown-up party. They had hoped to make their announcement first thing, but had to wait because Dr. Blythe was out on a call. When he finally returned, he looked very tired.

"How's Mrs. Drew?" Anne asked him.

"She's more upset than anything else," Gilbert said, shaking his head. "Her daughter came home today and announced that she will never go back to her husband – no matter what."

"Miss Cornelia said from the beginning that the marriage was a mistake, and I guess she was right," commented Anne. "They only married because he had just enlisted and was about to go overseas, and it seemed to be the romantic thing to do under those circumstances. They barely knew each other."

"The same thing happened to my cousin's daughter," Rosemary said, "only she had known the young man her entire life. They rushed into marriage because of the war, and from what my cousin tells me, all they ever do is quarrel now that he's home."

"I've seen many similar situations recently," Rev. Meredith said solemnly. "Young people who hurried into matrimony, never considering the effect the war might have on them and their feelings. We can be grateful none of our children hastily entered into marriage during the war."

"Yes," agreed Anne. "Thank goodness we've been spared that worry. You know, I've always considered myself a romantic, but I've heard so many stories about young people who rushed into marriage after the war started that I'm inclined to think that what they did wasn't romantic, but irresponsible."

Faith and Jem looked at each other in disbelief. They couldn't have been more astonished if their parents had announced that Canada had just outlawed the institution of marriage. Completely crestfallen, Jem and Faith knew, without exchanging a word, that they couldn't possibly tell their families about their marriage now. For almost two years, they had believed their families would be happy to learn they were married. How mistaken they had been!

Oddly, no one detected the shift in Faith and Jem's attitude from gleeful excitement to grim bewilderment. With the exception of the dejected young couple, everyone enjoyed a pleasant evening of good food and agreeable conversation. However, because all the Merediths were tired from their journeys, the evening ended at a rather early hour.

When the Merediths returned to the manse, Faith said good night to her family and went to her room, knowing the other members of her family were also ready to retire for the night. From her window, she could see Ingleside and the lights that burned inside the house. Silently but impatiently, she waited for those lights to go out, knowing that Jem would meet her in Rainbow Valley as soon as he could get away. After what seemed like hours, Ingleside was dark, and Faith quietly sneaked out of her room, tiptoed down the stairs, and slipped out the front door.

Although the calendar said early September, it definitely felt like a crisp and clear early autumn night, complete with a full moon illuminating the translucent sky, stars twinkling playfully in the heavens, and a cool soothing breeze offering comfort to the natural environment that earlier in the day had been disquieted by storms. If ever there were a perfect night for a clandestine lovers' tryst, this was it. Unfortunately, Faith Blythe was oblivious to it all. The storms that had disrupted the Glen several hours earlier had now moved into her heart, a heart that was suddenly murky, somber and tumultuous. If only what she and Jem ought to do weren't so plainly and painfully obvious to her.

Jem arrived in Rainbow Valley feeling extremely frustrated by the evening's events. Since his return to Canada five months earlier, he had felt, for the first time in nearly five years, that he was in control of his life. But now he felt as if his fate was once again in someone else's hands. However, his frustration dissipated momentarily when he caught site of his wife's curvaceous silhouette in the moonlight. Memories of that morning saturated his mind: the taste of her lips lightly brushing against his, the soft touch of her skin, and the intimacy of holding her close. He had had to leave her behind so many times in the last five years, and it had been agonizing each time. Since they had been married, however, their separations had become almost unbearable. How could he face a year at Kingsport without her after the closeness they had shared twelve short hours ago?

"Oh, Faith," he said softly, as he leaned forward to kiss her softly on the lips. When he released her from his embrace, he gently caressed her face with his fingertips and gazed into her eyes. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

"We made a terrible mistake tonight. We should have told them. I can't stand the idea of leaving you tomorrow."

"I don't want to spend another day without you, either. But we have more than ourselves to consider."

"Why?" he asked. "Haven't we made enough sacrifices in the last five years?"

"Yes. But we made those sacrifices for our country, not for our parents."

"I love my parents as much as you love yours," he told her. "But if it is a choice between them and you, I choose you without reservation."

"If only it were a choice, Jem. But it's not. We're not talking about giving up our marriage or each other, just living apart for a little while longer."

"For nine months, Faith. That's a long time when I'm not with you. Do we want to put ourselves through that just because our parents may wish we had waited until the war was over before getting married?"

"They've suffered so much. You can see it in their faces. At first, I thought it was just your parents because they lost Walter. But when I saw my father and Rosemary today, I could see that the agony and worry of the war had affected them, too. After all they've been through, do we want them to worry about us?"

He knew she was right. The toll the war had taken on his parents was obvious and had troubled him all summer. Yet he still couldn't accept the idea of leaving her in the morning. "There's no reason for them to worry about us. They'll be pleased about our marriage. I know they will."

"If that's the case, why didn't you tell them at dinner?" she asked quietly.

He gazed into her loving, yet anguished, golden brown eyes. He didn't have an answer. For a long time that night, Jem and Faith discussed their unexpected predicament. Jem finally had to admit to his wife that as much as he wanted her by his side as he finished medical school, he would have a hard time forgiving himself if revealing their secret caused their parents undue anxiety. So reluctantly Jem and Faith decided to continue masquerading as an engaged couple.

"If you hadn't enrolled in the accelerated medical course, and we were facing a two-year separation, I'd say let's be selfish and tell them," Faith had said. "But you'll be back here for good in less than a year. And as lonely as this separation will be, it will be easier than the other ones because I'll know that you're safe."

"We are luckier than many of our friends," he had said, also trying to look on the bright side. "At least we still have a future to look forward to. But there's something I want you to know, Faith. Despite our decision tonight, I don't regret marrying you in London. I'd do it again and without a second thought. Even though our wedding day was nothing like we originally planned, it was the happiest day of my life."

She smiled and said, "I feel the same way. When I married you that day, I made a pledge from my heart I'd wanted to make for a long time. I'll never be sorry I chose to do so then."

Exhausted and emotionally drained from the day's unforeseen events, Jem and Faith parted and returned to their separate homes, sneaking back to their beds in an attempt to get a few hours' sleep before they had to say goodbye at the train station. During their brief slumber, the weather changed yet again as more clouds drifted in from the west. As they stood on the platform and exchanged one last kiss before Jem boarded the eight o'clock train, mist began to fall from the gray and overcast sky, creating a mood that reflected their sad hearts and deflated spirits that morning. But determined to make the best of their situation, Jem and Faith clung to the knowledge that their circumstances, like the weather, were only temporary.


	4. Faith's Secret

November, 1919

Faith woke up feeling queasy. This happened frequently, and Faith was now sure why. She was pregnant – it was the only explanation. She had all the symptoms. And she was overjoyed at the prospect of finally having a baby!

Faith had suspected that she was pregnant for several weeks. Anxious to find out for sure, she had briefly considered seeing Dr. Blythe. However, if she did, she would have to tell him she and Jem were married, and that was an announcement they should make together. So she decided instead to wait and hope. If she missed three monthly cycles, she would arrange to see a doctor in Charlottetown before telling Jem that he would become a father shortly after he graduated from medical school.

As those weeks passed, leading Faith to the conclusion her suspicions were correct, she became more and more elated. She and Jem had dreamed of returning to the Glen and starting a family for so long, always fearing they might never have the opportunity. But now, even though she and Jem weren't together, he was safe in Kingsport attending medical school, where no harm was likely to come to him. When he returned home in June, they could move into their new house and they would finally be a family! Faith could think of nothing else.

Although she confided in no one, Faith's family and friends could not help but notice how delighted she seemed to be.

"Is there any particular reason you're so happy?" Jerry asked one day as they worked together at the newspaper office.

"Why shouldn't I be happy?" Faith asked. "I'm finally home after spending two and a half years in London. The war is over, so I no longer have to worry about receiving a telegram telling me that you, or Jem, or anyone else I love is wounded or dead. And Jem will graduate from medical school in June, which means he and I will be able to start the life we've been planning for years."

"Is that all?" Jerry asked, sensing that there was more.

"What more could there be?" Faith asked, avoiding his question. She hated being evasive. She and Jerry never kept secrets from each other, but she couldn't tell him, at least for now. Jem should be the first to know.

Jerry wasn't the only one who noticed Faith's bliss.

"Faith, you look wonderful," Anne Blythe commented several days later when Faith stopped by Ingleside on an errand. "You're positively beaming!"

However, John Meredith turned out to be more astute than anyone.

"So, Faith," he said to his daughter one evening as the two of them sat in parlor, "what's your big secret?"

"Secret?" Faith said, trying to hide her astonishment. How could he know?

"Yes. When you were a little girl, nothing made you happier than having a secret. And you are very happy these days."

"Can't a girl just be happy to be home?" Faith asked, trying to sound innocent. Keeping this secret from her family wasn't going to be easy. And surprisingly, it wasn't her morning sickness that was giving her away.


	5. All He Ever Wanted

December, 1919

Faith's only dilemma was how to tell Jem about the baby. She wanted him to know as soon as possible, but that would require telling him in a letter, when she really wanted to do so in person so she could see his reaction. She knew he would be as thrilled as she was, even though it meant telling their families about their marriage. Finally, she thought of the perfect solution, one that would allow her to combine her visit to the Charlottetown doctor with telling her husband the news. She wrote to Jem and proposed a secret rendezvous in Charlottetown before he returned home for the holidays, explaining that once he was home they would have very little time alone together. Jem wrote back immediately, praising the idea. He would meet Faith at the Windsor Hotel on Thursday evening. He had already made the reservation.

Because Faith hated to lie, especially to her family, explaining her trip to Charlottetown was difficult. But under the circumstances, she certainly couldn't tell the truth. Faith finally said that since had "an appointment" in Charlottetown (which she did), she had decided to make a day of it by doing some Christmas shopping (which she would), and spending the night with a college chum. (At one point in college, she and Jem had been chums.) Even though Faith didn't tell an outright lie, she still felt a bit guilty for telling such a misleading story. She envied Jem, who had simply written to his parents, saying that he had "things to do" before returning to the Glen, so he wouldn't be home until Friday.

When Faith left for Charlottetown that Thursday morning, she was a bundle of emotions. She was excited at the prospect of confirming her pregnancy, seeing Jem, and telling him the news. Yet at the same time, she was nervous. It had occurred to her the night before that despite the fact she had all the symptoms, there was still a possibility she wasn't pregnant. If the doctor told her that, she would be heartbroken. The disappointment would probably cause her to spend the entire night sobbing on Jem's shoulder. After all, she'd been secretly planning for this baby for nearly two months.

Much to her delight, the doctor, a kindly, older gentleman who reminded her of Dr. Blythe, told her that she was indeed expecting a baby, and that she was the picture of health as well as one of the most radiant mothers-to be he had ever seen. Upon learning she was only visiting the city, he encouraged her to see her regular physician for follow-up visits. Faith was exuberant when she left his office.

When Jem arrived at the hotel in the early evening, his wife looked positively stunning. She was wearing a green dress that complimented her coloring and accented her curvaceous figure. And she was absolutely beaming with excitement.

"This was a wonderful idea," he told her, as he put on his suit to go down to the dining room for dinner. "What made you think of it?"

"I just wanted to spend some time alone with you," she said coyly. "We're going to be very busy the next couple of weeks, with Rilla and Ken's wedding and then Christmas. As happy as I am to be near our families again, it is a little inconvenient under the circumstances."

"Yes, it is," agreed Jem, as he put his arms around her and kissed her. "You know, you look so beautiful that dinner is the last thing on my mind."

"Well," the blushing Faith said demurely, "I'm starving. If we don't eat now, I won't be able to think of anything but food all night."

The dining room at the hotel was elegant. Crisp, white linen tablecloths and flickering candles adorned the tables in the softly-lit room as refined waiters in black tuxedos courteously tended to the needs of the guests against the milieu of soft violin music. The atmosphere simply emanated romance. Faith looked at her husband from across the table and was so grateful to be with him. She had suffered through many dark and agonizing days in London, fearing that he had been taken from her forever. But now they were both safely home in Canada, finally beginning the life they should have started enjoying long ago.

"Just think, Faith," Jem said as they finished dessert, "after one more term I'll be home for good. Then nothing can keep us apart. And the two of us are going to be blissfully happy in our new house overlooking Rainbow Valley. There have been so many occasions when I wondered if that day would ever come. Now that it's finally so near, I finally believe it will happen."

"You may be home for good, but I suspect your work will keep us apart at times. Your mother has warned me that being a doctor's wife can be very lonely," Faith said teasingly.

"I'm afraid for her, it has been at times," Jem said solemnly.

Faith was slightly taken aback to hear Jem make such a statement. He idolized his father and wanted to be just like him.

"Don't misunderstand," Jem continued, having noticed the surprised expression on his wife's face. "My father adores my mother, and she wouldn't trade their life together for anything. Nevertheless, I've sometimes felt that my father's work came first. It won't be like that for me. Last year, when I was afraid I was going to lose you to the influenza, I swore that if God let me keep you, you would always be my first priority. And you will be. I love you, Faith. More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, Jem, I do know. Because that's how much I love you." Faith knew this was the perfect time to tell him about the baby, but his declaration had caused her to become so overwhelmed with emotion that tears streamed down her face and she couldn't say another word.

"Sweetheart, I didn't mean to make you cry," said the rather surprised Jem. Faith wasn't a woman who cried easily. "You must be tired from your trip. Why don't you go upstairs and get ready for bed while I take care of the check?"

Still unable to speak, Faith nodded and left the dining room. As she waited for Jem in their room, she suddenly became apprehensive about revealing her secret. Jem had spoken about how blissfully happy the two of them would be when he came home. Would having a baby so soon be too much for a young doctor just out of medical school as he adjusted to married life, too?

"Do you feel better, Sweetheart?" Jem asked when he entered the room and found Faith sitting on the bed.

"Yes, I do. I'm sorry Jem. I don't know what came over me. I was just so touched by the beautiful things you said."

"I meant every word. I know I probably don't tell you often enough that I love you. I just assume you know."

"I do, but knowing it and hearing you say it, especially in such a heartfelt manner, are two different things," Faith said, looking into his hazel eyes. Now was the time to tell him, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't form any words.

"What is it, Faith?" Jem asked, sensing that something was bothering her.

"Jem, I have something to tell you. Something I've been dying to tell you for weeks. But suddenly, I'm a little bit afraid to."

"Why should you be afraid to tell me anything?"

"I don't know. Until a few minutes ago, I was certain I knew exactly how you would react. But now I'm not so sure."

"You've certainly piqued my interest," Jem said. "Whatever it is, just tell me. There's no reason to be frightened."

"I'm going to have a baby," Faith said.

"A baby! Oh, Faith!" he exclaimed as he hugged her. "How could you be afraid to tell me that? Didn't you know I would be ecstatic? When? In June?"

"Yes, in June," she said, happy and relieved. "Until a few minutes ago, I knew you would be as thrilled as I am. But then when I was sitting here alone, I got nervous. I don't know why. It was silly of me."

"After all this time, we're finally going to start our family. Oh, Faith. You've made me the happiest man in the world. I didn't think it was possible to love you more than I did thirty seconds ago, but I do."

Later that night, as Faith slept in his arms, Jem watched her. He couldn't believe his good fortune. He had survived being wounded in the Great War, had endured a German prisoner of war camp, and was about to become a doctor. But best of all, his beautiful wife, who adored him and whom he had worshipped since his days as an undergraduate at Redmond, was going to have his baby. He was on the verge of having absolutely everything he had ever wanted.


	6. The Big Announcement

****

One Week Later

Whenever Faith looked back on the day of the big announcement, it almost seemed as if she had somehow known ahead of time how the evening was going to end, even though that wasn't possible. No one could have known. As happy as Faith was about her impending motherhood, she was nervous about sharing the news with her family and the Blythes, and despite Jem's convincing words of reassurance, Faith couldn't shake her uneasy feeling. She tried to stay busy that day, hoping any activity would keep her mind off the evening ahead, but she was still edgy.

Faith never could remember all the details of that evening, but in spite of her uneasiness, it stated out to be lovely. By the time she, Jerry, Bruce, Rosemary, and her father arrived at the Blythes for dinner, Faith appeared calm on the outside, but inside she was anything but tranquil as she and Jem exchanged nervous glances. They had hoped their siblings would all be present as well as their parents, but that was virtually impossible to arrange with such a large family. Rilla and Ken were still on their honeymoon; Susan was away visiting her brother; and Di, Una, Shirley, and Carl were attending an engagement party in Lowbridge. Faith was almost grateful for the smaller gathering, as fewer people seemed less intimidating.

At some point during the pre-meal conversation, Jem noticed Faith did not look well – she was very pale, and he knew it was more than nerves. But before he could pull her aside or say anything to her, his mother asked him to go outside to get some more wood for the fire.

"Faith, do you feel alright?" Rosemary asked just after Jem had disappeared into the kitchen. "You look pale."

"I'm fine," Faith replied, even though she knew she wasn't. "I just need some fresh air. It's a little stuffy in here. Please excuse me." She then made a quick exit before anyone could say anything more.

"She hasn't been herself all day," Rosemary said to no one in particular.

"No, she hasn't," agreed John Meredith. "But her paleness doesn't concern me nearly as much as that look in her eyes."

"What look is that?" asked Jerry.

"Fear," replied the surprisingly perceptive Rev. Meredith. "Total fear in the eyes of a girl who is never afraid of anything."

"Gil, maybe you'd better go see if she's alright," suggested Anne Blythe, who had also noticed that look.

Turning around as soon as he heard the kitchen door open, Jem was alarmed by the terrified and bewildered expression on his wife's colorless face.

"Faith, what's wrong?" he asked as he dropped the wood and rushed to her side.

"I don't know – I feel so strange, so sick. Oh Jem, I'm afraid…" she said before doubling over in excruciating pain before she could finish the sentence.

Dr. Blythe, who had witnessed but not heard the excited conversation from the kitchen window, rushed over and opened the door as Jem picked up his wife and carried her into the house.

"I think she's hemorrhaging," Jem said to his father.

"Quick, bring her into Susan's bedroom," he ordered as he led them into the little room off the kitchen.

"Dad, there's something you need to know," said Jem, who by now knew exactly what Faith was afraid of. "She's three months pregnant."

"She's what!" exclaimed Dr. Blythe, who couldn't have been more surprised if Jem had told him Faith was suffering from Bubonic Plague.

"She's three months pregnant," Jem repeated.

Gil started to say something to his son, but stopped himself. There would be time for recriminations later. Right now his patient was his top priority.

The rest of the Blythes and Merediths waited tensely in the parlor for the next two hours. They had heard Faith moaning in pain when Jem carried her into the house, had heard Gilbert order them into the bedroom, but hadn't heard anything else. The Merediths had wanted to go back into the bedroom to find out what was the matter with Faith, but Anne had convinced them not to. Having been a doctor's wife for twenty-eight years, she knew never to interrupt a physician in the middle of a medical crisis. He would talk to the worried family members as soon as the patient was out of danger.

When Gilbert finally entered the parlor, he looked grim, but not because Faith wouldn't be ok. She would recover. His expression was due to the fact that for the first time, he was deeply disappointed in one of his children. Of course, as no one else knew the reason for his grim look, they feared the worst.

"What's the matter with my daughter?" John Meredith demanded to know.

"Is Faith alright?" Jerry asked simultaneously.

"She'll be fine in a few days," Gilbert said, causing everyone to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

"But what's wrong with her?" asked Rosemary.

All eyes were fixed on Dr. Blythe. As much as he didn't want to answer the question at that moment, he knew he had to. After a long pause he quietly said, "She suffered a miscarriage."

Dr. Blythe's words rendered everyone in the room temporarily speechless.

"A miscarriage!" exclaimed John Meredith, who was the first to recover his power of speech. He couldn't believe it was possible his daughter had been pregnant. Hadn't he and Rosemary raised her better than that?

"Believe me, I'm as shocked as you all are," Gilbert said, glancing at his wife. The bewildered look on her face indicated to him that she was just as disappointed in their oldest son as he was. "But Jem says he can explain."

"Explain! What is there to explain? Where is he?" Jerry asked indignantly as he rose from his chair. Jem was his best friend, but that made no difference when it came to defending his sister's honor.

"Sit down, Jerry," Rev. Meredith ordered impatiently. Although he was every bit as shocked and angry as his son, John Meredith was not as impulsive. "While it appears there is nothing to explain, I think we should at least listen to what Jem has to say."


	7. Jem Explains

Meanwhile, Jem sat next to the bed, holding Faith's hand as she drifted off the sleep courtesy of the sedative Dr. Blythe had given her. Although Faith looked peaceful now, losing this baby was going to be a terrible blow to her – to both of them. Since Faith had told him about the baby a week ago, he had been deliriously happy. Yet Jem knew that as saddened as he was by Faith's miscarriage, her disappointment was going to be ten times worse. She had been secretly planning for this baby for nearly two months. Even though she hadn't told anyone but Jem, many people had noticed her radiant exuberance in recent weeks. And now the baby she had wanted so much had been taken from her.

As much as he hated to leave Faith's side, Jem knew that their families were waiting for him. No doubt they were aghast by the news, but once he told them the entire story he was sure everything would be fine. Regardless of the circumstances, he believed the rest of the Blythes and the Merediths would be supportive and share their grief. Nevertheless, he dreaded the thought of walking into the parlor and facing everyone. Dealing with his grief and anticipating the magnitude of Faith's was all he could handle right now. But knowing he had no choice, he went up to his bedroom to retrieve his copy of his marriage license before heading for the parlor.

When Jem walked into the parlor, everyone was silent. Seeing Jem's haggard, worried, and grief-stricken face immediately softened Rev. Meredith's and Jerry's anger, for it reminded them both of how much Jem loved Faith. Whatever Jem had done, they knew he would never intentionally hurt or humiliate Faith.

"I can only imagine how shocked you all must be," began Jem, "and I apologize for that. Before you say anything, I want to tell you something that Faith and I were planning to tell you tonight, although we should have told you a long time ago." He handed Rev. Meredith the marriage license before he continued. "Faith and I were married two years ago in London. We talked about sending a telegram or writing at the time, but we felt strongly news like that should be delivered in person, so we decided to wait until we were both home and could make the announcement together. Only on the evening we planned to tell you – the day after Faith returned from London and the day before I left for Kingsport – we changed our minds. It was the evening you had the conversation about Mrs. Drew's daughter and young couples rushing into wartime marriages. When you said you were glad none of your children had acted so irresponsibly, we just couldn't tell you."

"Oh Jem, I'm the one who said such marriages were irresponsible," his mother said apologetically. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. But I would have never felt that way about you and Faith. Even if your wedding was a little hasty, your marriage wasn't. You two had planned to be married before the war broke out. That's a completely different situation from the ones we were talking about that night."

"Anne is right," agreed Rev. Meredith, remembering he had been the one to say how lucky they were none of their children had rushed into marriage. "Yours and Faith's is a completely different situation. I wish you had told us. I feel terrible knowing we made you doubt your decision."

"You didn't," Jem said. "Faith and I talked about it later that night, and we wouldn't do anything differently even if we could."

"If you talked about it and agreed your decision to marry was the right one, why didn't you tell us the next morning before you left for Kingsport?" asked Gil.

"Based on your comments that night, we were afraid telling you would cause you to worry unnecessarily. And after all you've been through the last five years, we just couldn't do that to you."

Tears welled up in Anne Blythe's eyes. "After all we've been through!" she exclaimed. "You young people have suffered and sacrificed more than we have. You boys off fighting in Europe, and the girls waiting and wondering if you'd ever return. All of you put your lives on hold. Then you and Faith coming home, eager to announce your marriage but deciding not to in order to spare your family anxiety. And now Faith's miscarriage. It must be a terrible blow to both of you."

"Yes, it is," Jem said sadly. "But it's worse for Faith than for me. She told me about her pregnancy only last week. She's been planning for this baby for several weeks."

"That's what she's been so happy about," said Jerry, finally aware of the source of his sister's bliss.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Supper was completely forgotten, and the evening ended shortly thereafter. Sensing that their parents wished to speak about the situation in private, Jerry and Nan excused themselves and took Bruce back to the manse shortly after Jem returned to Faith's bedside. Once the senior Blythes and Merediths were alone, they discussed how much they would have welcomed a grandchild and how painful it was going to be to watch their children grieve over their loss, knowing there was nothing they could do to lessen the pain. John and Rosemary had wanted to take Faith home, but Gilbert insisted it was best for Faith to remain where she was for at least a few days. Besides, he pointed out, she really needed to be with her husband now. Unable to disagree, the Merediths left after promising to return early the next morning to check on their daughter. Anne and Gilbert went to bed, sadly remembering the daughter they had lost twenty-seven years earlier.

In the meantime, Jem sat by Faith's side all night, thinking about how much he loved her, questioning how a child who had been conceived in as much love as they shared could by taken from them, and wondering if he would really be able to leave Faith and return to medical school in ten short days. They were going to need each other now.

When Faith awoke just before sunrise, she was groggy and confused. At first, she couldn't remember where she was or what had happened. But upon seeing the somber look on her exhausted husband's face, she recalled feeling uncomfortable and sick, going outside, and doubling over as sharp pains shot through her body. As Jem moved over to sit on the edge of her bed and take her hand, she looked into his eyes and saw his broken heart.

"I lost the baby, didn't I?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Yes," he said hoarsely, "but you're going to be fine. That's all that matters."

For the next hour, Jem held his wife as she wept uncontrollably, not understanding how a child she already loved so much could be taken from her without warning.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"How is she?" Gilbert asked Jem quietly as he entered the room and saw that his patient was asleep.

Not wanting to wake Faith or risk her overhearing how worried he was about her, Jem silently motioned for his father to follow him into the kitchen.

"She's devastated," Jem told his father. "She woke and cried so hard for an hour that she wore herself out."

"There's no question this is going to be hard on Faith emotionally," Gilbert said, "But there's no permanent physical damage. She'll be able to have other children."

"I know," said Jem. "But I don't think that matters to her right now. All she can think about is the baby she lost."

Gilbert nodded, wishing he could offer some words of comfort. "What about you? Did you get any sleep at all?"

"I'm not tired," Jem said.

"Jem, you're not going to be able to help Faith if you collapse from exhaustion. Why don't you go upstairs and try to get a couple of hours of sleep?"

"No. I don't want Faith to be alone when she wakes up again."

"She won't be," Gilbert promised. "I'll see to it someone is with her every minute. Now go get some sleep."

Reluctantly, Jem did as he was told.


	8. No Solace

Weary from his night-long vigil, Jem sat down on his bed, rubbed his face with both hands, and let out a deep sigh. Although he knew he needed to sleep, he was simply too tired and too worried to do so. He walked over to the bureau, opened the top drawer, and took out a bundle of letters he had seen earlier when he retrieved the marriage license. The thick stack contained all the letters Faith had written him while he was overseas. Reading them always made him feel close to her, so he returned to the bed, propped himself up on the pillows, and began looking through the stack.

Was it possible that any one of these letters was his favorite? No, he didn't think so. Each had its own particular charm, evoked its own special memory, and contained its own trace of its author's personality. The one Jem finally chose to read was one Faith had written shortly before she left for London.

_27 February, 1917  
Kingsport_

My darling Jem,

As I write to you, the sun is setting and I am looking out my bedroom window at the deep shades of orange illuminating the sky, casting playful shadows on the earth below as the almost-spring breeze gently sways the bare branches of the trees in Mr. McKenzie's small orchard next door. It is a peaceful and enchanting scene, uniquely its own, yet like so many others I have seen before. Moments like these make me wonder how the world around me can look so peaceful and beautiful after the events of the last three years.

I know you worry about me leaving these safe and familiar surroundings to go to London as a V.A.D. In fact, almost every argument you made in your last letter as to why I should stay here and continue my Red Cross work was perfectly reasonable, Jem. The only point on which you were mistaken is on what you perceive as my altruism, though I love that you see me that way. While it is true that I make an important contribution to both the war effort and the soldiers through my Red Cross work, I simply can't be satisfied with that when I know I could be of even greater help and comfort to our brave boys in uniform if I were in London. If not for my gender, I would have joined up with you and Jerry long ago and would now be fighting on the battlefield. Compared to that, going to London seems to entail little enough sacrifice and danger. It is merely what I can do to most help the cause, just as enlisting was what you could do.

As for your argument that the damage and wounds I'll see there are far more horrible and severe than the ones I've seen here, I know you are right. I see battered and maimed soldiers in the hospital every day, some of them the suffering from such severe shell shock that they can't speak, except to scream out in their sleep as they relive their terrifying experiences in their nightmares. I often wonder what ghastly sights could effect them so acutely, and all I know is what really happened to them can be no worse than what I have imagined. Just knowing that I might be able to comfort such men in London makes me want to go even more, not because I'm selfless, but because I can't stand to see people in so much pain and not do all in my power to relieve their suffering. So, you see, I'm really being selfish by going to London especially when you consider being there will allow me to see you on occasion and mean I'll be near enough to go to you should you ever need me.

Do you remember an afternoon in Rainbow Valley long ago, when Walter spoke of the Pied Piper coming one day and beckoning to each of us to follow him? He's beckoning to me now, Jem, and I must follow him, just as you and Walter and Jerry and Carl have done. Please understand that.

Let's hope the war will end soon, so we can begin planning and living our life together. Won't it be wonderful, Jem? Just think…

**Two pages omitted**

Well, my love, the sky is dark now, and the playful shadows have retired for the night, just as I must do. Remember that I love you more than the early morning loves the day's first ray of sunlight, more than the dark night sky loves the brilliant illumination of the twinkling stars, and even more, my dearest, that the weary, war-torn nations of the world love the thought of peace.  
Yours always and forever,  
Faith 

As tears ran down his face, Jem let out a muffled sob and let the pages of the letter drop to rest on his chest. Re-reading Faith's letters usually had a calming effect on him, as seeing the words she had written almost mystically caused her love to jump off the page and envelop him, causing him to feel secure and happy. But not this time. Knowing that Faith was lying downstairs, her body fragile from the miscarriage and her soul consumed with grief for the baby she'd lost, Jem found the letter brought him no solace. Instead, it reminded him of the sacrifices she had made for him, of how the thought of returning to her had given him the determination to escape from the German prison camp, and of how her presence and nurture and love had facilitated his recovery. Silently cursing the fates that had taken their child away from such a loving woman, he vowed to do all he could to provide Faith with the same soothing support she always seemed to provide to him so naturally. Then, as he closed his heavy eyelids and succumbed to exhaustion, Jem said a quick prayer of thanks that his beloved wife had survived the heartbreaking ordeal.

Jem was jolted out of his slumber three hours later by the sound of his mother's frantic voice telling him that Faith was hemorrhaging again, and Gilbert feared she might need surgery. They needed to get her to the hospital in Charlottetown immediately.


	9. The Waiting Begins

Despite the fact he drove his father's car as fast as it would go, what Jem always remembered most about that trip to Charlottetown was how interminable it seemed, with Faith lying in the backseat, pale and unconscious, and Gilbert tending to her silently, looking anxious and grim. Never before had Charlottetown seemed so far away, had Jem thought of Glen St. Mary as such an isolated country village, or had the dirt road seemed so bumpy and treacherous. Though it was actually a bright and clear morning, the road reminded Jem of a dark and dangerous maze, leading them through vast areas of nothingness before finally taking them to their destination. And for the entire duration of the trip, worry gnawed at Jem, ate away at him, pulled him into its hopeless grip. This worry, this terror, grew stronger whenever he looked back at his wife to see her so motionless and white that she seemed almost dead.

The enormity of what happened, and what might happen still, only dawned on him when he found himself in the waiting area with nothing to do but sit and wait with a palpitating heart for news that might change his life forever. Upon arriving at the hospital, Faith and Dr. Blythe, who had called the hospital before leaving Ingleside, were whisked immediately into an examining room, and Jem was left alone in the waiting area until his mother and the Merediths arrived twenty minutes later. Too distraught to speak, Jem wished he were a doctor instead of a medical student, at least then he'd have the small consolation of being at his wife's side and knowing what her condition was, rather than being left in the waiting area to feel helpless and fear the unthinkable.

Pacing the floor distractedly, Jem tried not to think about the possibility of losing Faith, but every time he pushed the thought from his mind, it insidiously crept back in until it overwhelmed both his mind and heart, bringing feelings of helplessness and despair. Having her taken from him now would be the cruelest irony possible, after Faith had spent four years worrying about the possibility of losing him. During Faith's bout with influenza a year earlier, Jem thought he finally knew the agony his wife had suffered, but he hadn't. Not until now, when he was living it a second time, did it occur to him that Faith had lived with such fear every day, not knowing from one moment to the next if she was a widow or not. Society's belief that men were the stronger gender was ludicrous, Jem thought. Living with the unknown and the unthinkable possibilities of what might be took far more courage than facing reality, no matter how horrible it might be.

A desperate panic engulfed him when considered all the small wonders that might be lost to him forever: of never again gazing into Faith's sparkling brown eyes which always seemed to be lit from her soul; of never again hearing her melodic laugh that wafted gently through the air much like the song of a nightingale; of never again sharing her hopes and dreams in which he played a pivotal role; of never again kissing her sensuous lips and feeling the satisfaction of her kissing him in return; of never again feeling his heart flutter with excitement when she walked into a room, delighting him with her presence.

How devoid of joy and happiness and meaning his life would be without Faith! Without Faith, all he would have would be his work, and while medicine was a noble profession, one that would allow him to serve humanity and atone for the lives he had been forced to take in battle, having nothing but medicine his life would mean an empty and ultimately unfulfilling existence. Without Faith and the future they had planned, his life would be like a still ocean, one without the exhilaration of the rippling waves. Without Faith, he would be a wingless seagull unable to fly joyously and effortlessly above the water and sand to experience all the beauty and excitement life has to offer. Without Faith, he would merely exist; he would not actually live.

"Jem, come over here and sit down," Anne said gently, wishing fervently that she could offer some comfort to her son. "Wearing out the floor isn't going to do Faith any good."

"If only I knew what was going on in there," Jem said impatiently as he sat down next to his mother. "Why doesn't Dad come out and tell us something?"

"He will as soon as there's something to tell," Anne said, thinking to herself that it was a good sign Gilbert was still with Faith. That meant Gilbert and the other doctors still thought there was something that could be done for her.

Anne put her hand in her son's, and looked sympathetically at John and Rosemary Meredith, who were sitting on the small sofa opposite of where she and Jem sat. Rev. Meredith looked pale and grave, while Rosemary appeared pensive and tense. Her heart ached for them, for Anne remembered the endless hours she spent in the hospital when Walter had typhoid, and how silence only made the waiting more painful. What these three frantically worried people needed to do was to share their happy memories of Faith, and Anne took upon herself to see they did just that.

"Jem, while we're waiting for news, why don't you tell us about your wedding? What happened in London that made you and Faith decide to elope?" she said.

John and Rosemary both looked to Jem with interest.

"Yes," said John, welcoming the distraction from his thoughts. "It must have been quite exciting."

"And very romantic," added Rosemary.

Jem smiled weakly at his parents-in-law, noticing for the first time since their arrival that they were as anxious as he was. How could he be so oblivious to their anguish?

"It was," he said softly, as thoughts of Faith and London temporarily pushed aside thoughts of the present crisis.


	10. Tears of Happiness

****

Flashback: November 11, 1917

As the train pulled into London, Jem had to make a concerted effort to remain in his seat, as he felt his high spirits might allow him to miraculously defy gravity. Now that he was about to see his beloved Faith for the first time in more than three years, he couldn't believe he had, at one time, actually discouraged her from coming to England. While he was still concerned about her subjecting herself to the physical and mental strains of V.A.D. work, he was elated that his beautiful and stubborn fiancée knew her own mind and always followed her own heart. Based on the letters he had received, Jem knew Faith found her demanding and emotionally draining work fulfilling as it made her feel she was making the greatest contribution she could to the war effort. Being able to ease the visible and invisible wounds of the injured soldiers in her care soothed Faith's soul and lessened the anguish she felt over the plight of all who were suffering due to the Great Conflict. But as delighted as he was that Faith was satisfied with her life in London, Jem rather selfishly thought the best thing about her being in London was the he would be able to see her every day for the next week while he was on leave.

When he got off the train, she was standing on the platform, waiting for him and looking even more enticing than he'd thought possible. At first glance, she was the epitome of sophisticated female beauty, wearing a ruby red dress that complimented natural loveliness, the way the red roads highlighted the natural beauty of Prince Edward Island. Was it possible that a woman wearing ruby red could look ethereal? Before that moment, Jem would have thought such an effect could only be accomplished by wearing white of some other light, airy color, but he would have been mistaken, for Faith indeed possessed an ethereal appearance.

Yet impossibly, this chic woman wore an almost child-like expression as she searched the crowd, her eyes opened wide in anticipation and hope, as if she were waiting for her fondest wish to be granted and not believing it could be. And when she saw him, her expression turned to one of breathless disbelief, as if she feared the image before her was a mirage, the product of wishful thinking or of a vivid dream.

The next thing Jem knew, Faith was clinging to him tightly and protectively, as she sobbed quietly into his chest. He embraced her almost as fiercely, and they needed to exchange no words to express the love, gratitude, relief, and wonder that was in their hearts.

When they finally let go of each other, he dried her eyes with his handkerchief and said softly, "No tears, dearest. Not on the happiest day I've known in more than three years."

Smiling up at him, she said, "They're tears of happiness, Jem. Tears for the remarkable joy I can feel only when I'm with you."

He leaned down and kissed her, and in that moment, the whistles of the engines, the commotion of train station, and the hundreds of people milling about vanished silently into the gray London fog.

Sitting in the back of the taxi with Faith, Jem felt a fierce need to kiss her again, but didn't as he knew that it wasn't the proper time or place. Instead, he gently caressed her hand as they gazed dreamily at each other, both completely tuning out the taxi driver who was prattling on incessantly about the war, which at the moment seemed as distant and remote to Jem as the Crimean War and other conflicts of which he had no firsthand knowledge. Was it possible the war was still raging on and that he himself had been in the trenches only a few short days ago, Jem wondered. While the horrific experiences of the past three years could never be forgotten, they seemed to melt away in Faith's presence. It was as if Jem had stepped out of one world and into another, for his life as a soldier seemed totally separate from his life as Faith Meredith's fiancé, a role he was anxious to immerse himself in for the next week. He couldn't wait to be alone with her, to hold her in his arms, to kiss her supple lips, to run his fingers through her golden brown curls, and to share the innermost thoughts and feelings that lovers can whisper to each other only in private.

However, Jem allowed his attention to be diverted from his sweetheart when they arrived at the home of Ludlow and Victoria Wentworth, the elderly couple with whom Faith was staying while in London and whom she had grown to love like grandparents. Victoria Wentworth, who had served as nurse in her native United States during the American Civil War, was a member of the British Red Cross' V.A.D. advisory board and was so devoted to the cause that she had insisted that one of the volunteers stay in her home in order to provide her direct contact with the program on a daily basis. Since her arrival in London, Faith's letters to Jem had been full of references and stories about Victoria Wentworth, a woman considered somewhat of a rebel, yet still member of standing in London's elite circles. Jem had been curious about her ever since learning that Mrs. Wentworth had been married four times!

"Faith has told me so much about you that I feel we are old friends, Jem," Victoria Wentworth said warmly in her distinctively gravelly voice when Faith introduced them. "I do hope that you and I will have the chance to for a long chat while you're on leave, but right now I'm on my way out to a committee meeting. I'm sure you'll excuse me as my departure will give you the opportunity to spend some time alone with Faith. Luddie is away on business this afternoon, too. We are planning a special dinner in your honor tomorrow evening though, if that's convenient for you."

"That's very kind of you, Mrs. Wentworth," Jem said, noticing the mischievous twinkle in the elderly woman's eyes. Had Faith not mentioned in one of her letters that Victoria Wentworth was seventy-seven years old, he would have thought her twenty years younger. Not only was she the most beautiful elderly woman he had ever seen, she was one of the most beautiful women of any age he had ever seen. Her complexion was virtually flawless – smooth and nearly wrinkle-free. That, along with her thick, snow-white hair, her china blue eyes, her finely chiseled features, and her gracious smile gave her a soft appearance, much like a very refined version of the stereotypical kindly but dowdy grandmother. "I'm looking forward to becoming better acquainted with you as well. Faith's letters have been full of stories about kind you and your husband have been to her."

"My dear boy, please call me Victoria. I'm not one to stand on ceremony unless I have to in order to further one of my causes," she said matter-of-factly.

"Very well, Victoria," Jem said a bit uncomfortably. He wanted to abide by her wishes, yet he couldn't help but feel that calling his elder by her first name was very disrespectful.

"Even though I've known Mrs. Wentworth for only two minutes, I can tell that she is a character, just as you've said," Jem told Faith once Victoria had left the house.

"More like a force of nature," Faith said, chuckling slightly. "I don't think I've ever met anyone as determined or strong-willed before." Noticing the amused look on Jem's face, she added, "And yes, that includes me."

"It sounds as if you two have a lot in common, except that you will only be married once, if I have anything to say about it."

"Victoria can't help the fact that she outlived her first three husbands," Faith said lightly. But immediately after making the comment, a look of horror crossed Faith's face, and Jem could tell that she feared she had said the wrong thing, having made a comment that reminded them both that Faith could well outlive Jem under the present circumstances.

"No, I don't suppose she can," Jem said quietly. "And I'm sure that none of her husbands would have wanted her to spend the rest of her life alone, mourning for them. If they truly loved her, they would have wanted her to be happy, with or without them."

Faith said nothing, for no words were necessary as they both knew that Jem was not speaking only of Victoria's husbands. Jem saw Faith's eyes well up with tears, but before he could say anything, she put her arms around him and kissed him.


	11. An Evening With the Wentworths

Jem wasn't prepared to like the Wentworths as much as he did. Not that he expected to _dislike_ them, of course. They had been much too kind to Faith for Jem to think ill of them. However, he had expected that he and Faith spent with them would be out of obligation, that it would be a nuisance of sorts because it would take away from the time he could spend alone with Faith. As it turned out, spending time with Ludlow and Victoria Wentworth was like spending time with family.

Jem didn't really get a chance to know the elderly couple until his second evening in London, and he quickly realized that the timing must have been intentional. Victoria and Luddie, who were young lovers at heart, had purposely chosen to hold the special dinner in Jem's honor on his second evening in London because they that the younger couple would want to spend the first evening and first full day of Jem's leave together.

"It sounds as if you two saw half of London today," remarked Luddie as they were finishing dessert on that second evening, "and I'm glad of it. It's high time that Faith had some fun. The hospital won't fall apart just because its best V.A.D. is gone for a few days," he added, looking at Faith.

"Thank you, Luddie," Faith said demurely.

"Indeed," said Victoria in agreement before turning to Jem. "I've never seen Faith so happy. We have you to thank for that."

"I can't possibly make her as happy as she makes me," Jem replied as he smiled across the table at his fiancee, causing her to blush.

"Oh, and such the perfect response," exclaimed Victoria as she clasped her right hand over her heart. "How wonderful to be so young and in love!"

"If you'll recall, being old and in love isn't such a bad thing, old darling," Luddie said teasingly.

"I wouldn't know," said Victoria, pretending to be offended, "as I've never been old."

"Perhaps not in spirit," Luddie said, knowing that he'd better choose his words carefully. "But neither of us is getting any younger, Victoria."

"Speak for yourself, Luddie," retorted Victoria.

"Isn't that just like a woman?" Luddie asked Jem, as Jem bit his lip to keep from laughing. The question reminded him of a slightly different one that Miss Cornelia asked constantly. "Vain and slightly delusional when it comes to her age. The next thing you know, she'll be telling us how much you remind her of her first husband."

"I wasn't going to mention that, but the truth is that Jem reminds me very much of my Patrick," said Victoria.

"I knew it," Luddie said, laughing slightly. "Every young, nice-looking, red-headed chap reminds Victoria of her first husband."

"Why, sir, I do believe you're jealous," Victoria said flirtatiously.

"See, what did I tell you, Jem? Vain and delusional…" Luddie said teasingly before he was seized by a fit of coughing.

"Oh, dear," said Victoria as she got up from her chair and went to her husband's side. "I think we'd better go upstairs and get some of that medication into you."

"Let me help you, Victoria," said Jem.

"No, thank you, Jem. You stay here with Faith. Jeremy will help me," she said, referring to the butler who had just appeared in the doorway. "Good night, children. I'm sure we'll see you again before your leave is over, Jem."

"Of course," Jem said, feeling a bit awkward. He wished that he could do something to help. Mr. Wentworth was still coughing nonstop.

"Emphysema," Faith said quietly to Jem after the elder couple had left the room.

Jem nodded. "I figured it had to be a lung disease of some sort. Does he have these attacks often?"

"More often than he used to, from what Victoria tells me. She worries about him a great deal."

"I've never seen a couple their age flirt with each other like that," Jem remarked. "How long have they been married?"

"They celebrated their eleventh wedding anniversary last month," Faith said. "I hope we'll be like that when we're they're age."

"We will be if I have anything to say about it," Jem told her with a mischievous glint in his eye that caused Faith to blush.

"Why are we talking about the Wentworths?" Faith asked. "Let's go into the parlor, sit in front of the fireplace, and talk about us, Mr. Blythe."

"I can't think of anything I'd like better, Miss Meredith."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning, Jem returned to the Wentworth house, barely nine hours after bidding Faith good night. However, those nine hours seemed more like nine days to him. During the two glorious days they had spent together, Jem had been able to think of nothing but Faith. Though they were thousands of miles from the Glen, he was at home when he was with Faith. It didn't matter what they did - taking a walk in the park, touring one of the city's famous museums, visiting the Tower of London, or sitting in front of the fireplace on a chilly autumn evening, all was right with the world when they were together. Jem only wished that he could spend every moment of his leave with Faith.

"Good morning, Jem," Victoria greeted him when she answered his knock. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm very well, thank you. How is Luddie this morning?"

"He's feeling better than he did when you saw him last, but he's still in bed. Such a stubborn man, that husband of mine. He tried to get up at the crack of dawn, but I told him that he's not going anywhere until the doctor sees him later this morning. I have no intention of burying a fourth husband, you know."

Jem had no idea how to respond to her last statement. "I'm glad he's feeling better. I didn't get a chance to thank you last night for dinner. It was wonderful, and I can't thank you and Luddie enough for your kindness."

"It was our pleasure," Victoria said as they sat down in the parlor. "Luddie and I are very fond of Faith. She's like the daughter that neither of us ever had. Luddie and his first wife, Lillian, had four sons. And my second husband, Andrew, and I raised his three nephews after their parents were killed in an accident. While I couldn't love those boys any more than if I'd given birth to them, I would have liked to have had a daughter, too.

"But, my goodness, you aren't here to listen to the ramblings of an old woman. Faith will be down shortly. I'm afraid it's my fault that she's running late. Well, mine and Luddie's. You see, I asked Faith to read to Luddie for a while this morning. She often does that when he's on bed rest, and he enjoys it so. She has a marvelous bedside manner. You don't mind keeping an old lady company while you wait for Faith, do you?"

"Show me an old lady, and I'll be delighted to keep her company," Jem said.

"Such the perfect response," exclaimed Victoria, again clasping her right hand over her heart. "You _do_ remind me of my Patrick. But don't tell Luddie that I said that."

"It will be our secret," Jem said solemnly. "I believe that Faith mentioned in one of her letters that Patrick was a doctor."

"Yes, Dr. Patrick Ryan. He was a tall, handsome, red-headed doctor. Very much like you," she said, with a far away look in her eyes.

"Faith told me that he served in the Union army during the American Civil War, and that you served as a Red Cross nurse. Is that how the two of you met?"

"Oh, no. We met before the war. Two young people from different worlds, both fighting for the abolitionist cause. My parents didn't consider Patrick an appropriate suitor. But, my goodness, I must be boring you to tears. You don't want to hear this Jem."

"I do. Honestly, I do. That is, if you don't mind telling me," Jem said sincerely. Normally hearing the reminisciences of an old woman wouldn't interest him that much, but the reminiscences of Victoria Wentwoth were an exception. He felt certain that she was full of interesting stories. And even if she weren't, the least he could do was listen to the memories of the woman who was being so kind to Faith.

Victoria smiled, clearly pleased at the opportunity to relive her youth by telling the story of her first love. "I don't mind at all," she said, as she sat back in her chair and got comfortable.


	12. Victoria Reminisces

Victoria spent the next 30 minutes telling Jem about her "beloved Patrick." They had met in 1858, shortly after Victoria's 18th birthday. He was an Irish immigrant and a medical student, and she was the daughter of one of Boston's wealthiest businessmen. Until she had become active in the abolitionist movement, Victoria's social circle had been limited to Boston's elite. Patrick was unlike anyone she had ever known before – he was someone who had struggled to make a better life for himself, his widowed mother, and his two sisters. And his was committed to doing what he could to make life better for others.

"Of course, my parents were appalled when I told them that Patrick and I were in love," she told Jem. "I was certain that once they met him, once they saw how bright and ambitious and compassionate he was, they would change their minds. I was very wrong. I remember my mother saying to me, 'Victoria, be reasonable. He may be a nice young man, but he has no money _and he's a Catholic_.' Patrick's mother was just as upset that he was in love with a girl who wasn't a Catholic.

"My parents forbade me to see Patrick, which only made me more determined. I was willful even then," Victoria said with a laugh. "They knew our paths still crossed through our abolitionist work. They didn't know our love for each other continued to grow stronger. Patrick finally confessed that he wanted to ask me to marry him, but he didn't think it was fair for him to ask me to give up privileged lifestyle. Once he graduated from medical school, he intended to open a clinic for Boston's poor immigrant community, so he knew he would never have a lot of money. He must have known that _he mattered to me more than money or material comforts_ because when I told him that, he took a simple silver ring out of his pocket and slipped it on my finger. At the moment, it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I had ever seen – far more beautiful than any of my mother's diamonds.

"Patrick insisted we couldn't marry until he finished medical school. A month before his graduation, the Civil War began, and he wanted to postpone our wedding again. He intended to join the Union Army and thought we should wait until the war was over to get married. I was furious, and we had a terrible argument about it. I insisted no matter what our marital status we would miss each other and I would worry about him and was adamant that I would love him no matter happened. I wouldn't take no for an answer, and we eloped the day before he graduated from medical school. A week later, he reported to Fort Independence."

Victoria was silent for several moments, lost in her memories. Faith, who had come downstairs in the middle of Victoria's story, was sitting on the sofa next to Jem, holding his hand.

"Did you see Patrick again after that?" Jem asked. He knew that Patrick had died in the war, but did not know the details.

"Oh, yes," Victoria said softly. "He came home on leave when he finished his training, and I saw him about half a dozen times during the following two years. Despite the horrors of the war, horrors he lived and I witnessed in their aftermath caring for wounded soldiers, despite that, each of our reunions was a joyous celebration, Jem. When we were together, everything else seemed to melt away. That was true even at the end. Patrick was mortally wounded at the Battle of Gettysburg in 1863, and by then I was working as a war nurse. His comrades sent for me, so I had the solace of being at his bedside for his final hours. Even then, it seemed to be just the two us in the crowded, chaotic, makeshift hospital ward. Patrick knew he wouldn't live much longer, and apologized for the fact he would be leaving me. Then, he thanked me for convincing him not to wait until the war was over to marry. He said that marrying me was the best thing he had ever done. It was so sweet. I felt the same way, and still do. While I wish that we had had more time together, I wouldn't trade our brief marriage for anything."

Suddenly Victoria's dreamy fog lifted and she was back in the present.

"But that's enough about me and my ancient past! I'm keeping you two from enjoying your reunion," she said as she rose from her chair. "I'm going upstairs to check on Luddie. You children enjoy your day together."

And with those words, Victoria exited the room, leaving Faith and Jem to silently consider the parallels between their lives and the lives of a young American couple more than 50 years earlier.


	13. Jem Decides

Neither Faith nor Jem knew what to say, so they sat in silence for a few moments after Victoria left the room. They were both asking themselves the same questions: _Why not marry now? Why wait until the war ends and Jem finishes his course in medicine?_

Faith was afraid to say anything; she didn't want Jem to think she and Victoria were conspiring to get him down the aisle. Nothing could have been further from the truth. While the thought of eloping had crossed her mind, she'd never mentioned it to a living soul. She wondered what had prompted Victoria to tell Jem the story of her first marriage. While Faith had heard Victoria mention Patrick on several occasions, she'd never heard the story in such detail and had never seen Victoria reminisce in such a dreamy manner.

Jem was the one who finally broke the silence. Still holding her hand, he looked into her eyes and said, "Part of me wants to get down on one knee right now and ask you to marry me today."

She was surprised that he would admit to wanting to do something so impulsive. He was usually so practical.

"What's stopping you?" she asked cautiously.

"A number of things are stopping me, Faith, and you know what they are," he said quietly.

She nodded silently.

He let go of her hand, rose from the sofa, and walked over to the fireplace. He stood there, his back to her. Faith, who was seldom at a loss for words, dared not speak for fear that she would say the wrong thing.

"It wouldn't be fair to you if we got married now," he said without turning around.

"What?" she demanded. "How do you figure that? I'd marry you this very second – without reservation - if you'd ask me!"

"That's what I mean," he said.

"Jem Blythe, you aren't making any sense! How can giving me the one thing I want most in the world be unfair to me?"

He turned around to face her. She was standing now, and her cheeks were flushed with color. He could see that he had angered her, though she was trying not to show it.

"Don't you think I hate not being married to you? We've waited such a long time. When I shipped out, I thought I was going off on some glorious adventure that would last six months at the most. I never dreamed the War would last this long – or be so horrific. Faith, I've never told you, and I shouldn't tell you now…" His voice trailed off as he looked away.

"Do you think I don't know?" she asked as she walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulders. "I work in a convalescent hospital caring for badly wounded soldiers, Jem. The ones who've lost limbs or had half their faces blown off. I've seen men who are so badly shell-shocked that they will likely spend the rest of their lives in institutions. As much as I appreciate your cheerful and optimistic letters, I know the truth. You put on a brave face because you don't want me to worry. What I don't know is how you bear it all."

He unbuttoned his shirt pocket, reached inside, and pulled out two small possessions: a pink rose and a photograph of Faith.

"This is how I bear it. I look at these and think of you," he said before kissing her vigorously. She kissed him back just as hard. When he broke away from her, he said hoarsely, "My reasons for wanting to marry you now are very selfish."

His meaning was so unmistakable that it made her blush.

"I don't think that's selfish," she said quietly.

"Things are so uncertain," he said.

"Maybe that a reason to get married now, while we have the opportunity."

"We never speak of it directly, Faith, but we both know that I may not survive this war."

"That's my worst fear," she said, "and should it come to pass, I'll be devastated. My anguish will be immeasurable whether we're married or not."

"What if I survive, but I'm maimed?" he asked.

"Do you think I'd stop loving you just because you were crippled?" she asked incredulously. "I would be grateful that you were alive."

"Even if nothing happens to me, I still won't be able to support you until I finish my course in medicine," he said.

"You don't have to support me, Jem. I'm capable of working while you finish your studies."

"I couldn't let my wife do that, Faith."

"No?" she asked. "You couldn't share your home with a wife who works all day, but you have no problem with your fiancée working, even though it means we'll live separately. I know you think you have to follow your father's example, but you don't. Our circumstances are very different. Besides, your mother worked those years that she waited for your father. Think of how much happier they could have been during that time if they'd been married and could have gone home to each other every night."

"I'd never thought of it that way," he admitted. "But you wouldn't be able to work if we had a child before I finish my studies."

"Probably not," she conceded. "But we'd manage somehow. Surely men with families have successfully completed medical school."

"Faith," he continued quietly, "what if we marry now, and you find out in a few months that you are going to have a baby, and then something happens to me? You would be alone with a child to raise."

Faith took a deep breath before answering. "If that happened, God forbid, our child would be the greatest gift you ever gave me – a living, breathing reminder of you. A child who would look at me every day with your hazel eyes, reminding me that I still have part of you even though you're gone." _Don't cry now, _she thought to herself as she swallowed a sob_. _"And your parents would feel exactly the same way. Having your child to love would provide them with some solace if we lost you."

"It's not in my nature to do something impulsive like elope," he said after a long silence.

"I know," she said, sighing and thinking she did not always like his practical nature. "But Jem, you can't base this decision entirely on 'what ifs.' There are no guarantees in life, war or no war. Look at my parents. When they married, they never expected that ten years later my father would be a widower with four young children."

"That's true," admitted Jem. After a short silence, he spoke again. "Do you think we can suspend this discussion for a while and go enjoy a day exploring London?" he asked, feeling that he needed to regain his equilibrium before making such an important decision.

"Yes, but I want to say one more thing before we do."

He waited.

"I don't see how getting married after a three-year engagement can be considered impulsive."

When Jem arrived at the Wentworth house the next morning, he quickly whisked Faith into the parlor and closed the door. Faith couldn't tell if his bright eyes and red cheeks were due to the cold weather or to excitement.

"Faith, I barely slept last night because I kept thinking about us and about Victoria and Patrick. I want to do the right by you, Faith, because nothing is more important to me than you are. Nothing. As you said yesterday, there are no guarantees in life. We can't look into a crystal ball to see how things will turn out if we make this decision or that decision. So maybe all we can do when the right thing isn't obvious is to choose what is right at the moment and believe we can make it the right thing no matter what happens later."

Faith stood silently looking at him. Clearly, he had made a decision, but she wasn't sure which one yet.

"So what are saying?" she asked.

"I'm saying that I love you," he said. "I'm saying that we've waited long enough. I'm saying that I want to marry you today – if you'll have me."

"Yes," she said gleefully. "Yes, yes, yes! I'll marry you today, and it will be the happiest day of my life!"

They threw their arms around each other in a tight embrace, their last as an unmarried couple.

_**End of Flashback**_

"When we told Victoria of our plans, she insisted that we have the ceremony at her house. It wasn't the wedding we had always planned, but we didn't care because we were so happy. Victoria went to more trouble than she should have – having a celebratory dinner for us after the wedding, then sending us on a honeymoon to a bed & breakfast outside of London for the remainder of my leave. We protested, telling her that we couldn't accept the honeymoon, that it was too generous. But she pulled me aside and told me to accept it for Faith's sake, that the memories would be important to her if something happened to me. I'm glad I gave in because it was a wonderful five days."

"Since we couldn't be there, I'm glad that Victoria and Luddie were," said Rosemary, who knew from Faith's letters how much the older couple had meant to her.

Jem smiled weakly. "Once we were married, I never questioned my decision. Not until today anyway," he said, his voice cracking slightly as he realized that Faith's life wouldn't be in danger now if he had insisted they stick to their original plan and not marry until he graduated from medical school.

"You mustn't question your decision, Jem," Rev. Meredith said resolutely. "You married my daughter because you love her, and you've made her very happy. You couldn't have anticipated this."

"Thank you," Jem murmured, appreciating his father-in-law's kindness.

"Here comes your father," said Anne, and the four of them nervously rose from their seats, eager to hear what Gilbert had to say.

"We've managed to stop the hemorrhaging," Gilbert said, getting directly to the point because he knew how worried they all were, "so surgery won't be necessary."

Gilbert paused while the others heaved a collective sigh of relief. John and Rosemary Meredith embraced each other while Anne put her arm around her son.

"There's more, isn't there?" asked Jem, who noticed that his father was relieved, but not happy.

"Yes," Gilbert said. "She's lost a lot of blood. She's very weak."

"But she will recover, won't she?" asked Rosemary.

"I'm cautiously optimistic that she will," said Gilbert, "provided that the hemorrhaging doesn't start up again. The next twenty-four hours will be critical. If she gets through the next twenty-four hours without developing any complications – like hemorrhaging – her chances improve a great deal."

"Is she conscious?" Jem asked.

"Not yet," replied Gilbert.

"May I see her?" Jem asked.

"As soon as she's settled in her room," Gilbert promised. "That should be just a few more minutes."

Jem nodded, not trusting himself to speak again. He knew that the next twenty-four hours could be the longest of his life.


End file.
